I Placed My Daughter for Adoption, But I Didn't Give Her Up

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Jessalynn "Jessa" Bills Speight, was 18 when she learned she was pregnant. She and her then-boyfriend went to Planned Parenthood to review all her options, and after careful consideration, she chose adoption. It was such a positive experience that she now runs retreats for birth mothers who have made that same choice, and she is committed to fighting the stigma they often face. Birthmothers are not "all poor, disenfranchised drug addicts," she explains.

Now 24, Jessa has had two more children. Her 2-year-old daughter and 8-month old son live with her and her husband in Utah, while her eldest daughter lives six hours away. Jessa visits the adoptive family and considers them her extended family. Here, she shares her story.

Adoption has such a bad stigma. I cannot tell you how many people say to me, "I could never give my child up for adoption." To which I respond, "I did not give my daughter up — that's what you do with a washing machine. I placed her with a loving couple that I chose who were capable of supporting her in a way I could not at that moment in my life." I really want to kick them and say, "Do you think this was my life plan?"

I was living with my parents in South Jordan, Utah, when I discovered I was pregnant. I had just come back from basic training from the Army, where I was training to become an interrogator. My then-boyfriend moved to Utah after we finished our training to be near me. I was planning to go to Utah State University to study special education.

I realized I was pregnant around Christmas 2008. I was on a road trip with my dad and kept feeling really sick. I didn't take a pregnancy test until New Year's Day. By then, I was back home with my boyfriend. We were out to dinner with my best friend and her husband at a restaurant. I told everyone I thought I was pregnant, so my boyfriend bought a test. I took it in the bathroom, and it was positive. I was in shock. We went to a movie, and I cried through the entire movie. In Utah, they teach abstinence only, so in all honesty, I did not really understand the importance of birth control, and we did not use any.

The next day my boyfriend and I went to Planned Parenthood to get another test. I prayed that it would be negative. When it wasn't, I burst into tears again. The counselor explained all my options. I was a mess. I had no idea what to do. Back at my boyfriend's house, I decided to call my dad. I have a stepfather as well, but my dad lives out of state, so I figured he would not be able to kill me when I told him. He was incredibly supportive and said, "You can come stay with me throughout the pregnancy. Or you can place for adoption."

I knew I was never going to marry the birth father, and I didn't want to be a single parent. My mom was for years. She worked her butt off to take care of me and my sister, which meant she never got to see us. I was terrified to tell her I was pregnant. My dad beat me to it. When my mom and stepdad confronted me, they weren't crying, but I could tell they wanted to.

I was supposed to leave for college three days later, so my mom told me to call the dorms to make sure I could still live there. They said I could until I had the baby. I made pros and cons for every choice out there, including raising the baby by myself. I made another appointment at Planned Parenthood to learn more about abortions. I'm pro choice but never thought I would have one myself. I grew up in the church of the Latter Day Saints, which does not support abortion. Still, I considered it. At that point, all I was thinking was, "How can I get out of this situation?"

My mom was very clear that she was not going to help me take care of the baby if I decided to keep it. My mom has me and my sister and then had another four kids with my stepfather. She even made an appointment for me to go talk to a caseworker at an adoption agency. I went but was closed off and bratty. But then the caseworker told me about these support groups the agency holds for expectant moms. It didn't matter what you were choosing — to adopt or parent. I went and listened to everyone's stories. Girls talked about open adoptions — I had never heard that term before! I have an uncle who is adopted and knows nothing about his birthparents. I did not want that for me or my child.

I was 12 weeks pregnant when I decided to place for adoption. I was studying special ed in college but also was part of the National Guard and was planning to go to an Army interrogator school in Monterey the following summer to learn Mandarin Chinese. I would not be able to do that if I had a baby. I was not emotionally and physically mature yet, let alone financially stable. I was still a kid. I realized in my heart of hearts that I wasn't ready to become a mom.

The agency gave me a stack of adoptive profiles, which are scrapbooks with photos and information about each couple or family. There I was sitting on my dorm floor, surrounded by a stack of books. I should have been out playing Frisbee or worrying about exams, but instead I was choosing a family for my baby. I looked for clues. What did they do for fun? How many other kids did they have? Pets? Then I made a "yes," "no" or "maybe" pile.

My roommate, Aly, arrived. We'd been living together for a few months by then but were not that close. I explained that I was just trying to choose a couple for my baby. A few minutes later, she said, "Actually, I have an aunt and uncle who are looking to adopt." She had them send their information — I knew the minute I saw their photo that I had found my child's parents. The mom and dad had so much love in their eyes. But what really sealed it was that they had two biological sons. I always wanted a big brother.

I told the agency I had found a possible couple. It turns out they were working with the same agency in a neighboring state. I thought it would take a while to meet them, but they showed up the very next day.

That morning, I went to Walmart and put together a basket of baby food and onesies and then framed my first ultrasound with the due date on it. I hid the gift in the closet — I wanted to make sure they really were the right fit. I asked a bunch of questions, including, "Are you going to tell her from day one that she's adopted?" They said yes, and then I pulled out the basket. The adoptive dad gave me a huge hug. The mom was just in such shock she did not react. I learned later that the agency tells them to not get too excited.

By then, my boyfriend and I had split up. But he was very gracious in the end about signing away his parental rights. I was relieved — I wanted the adoptive parents to know that this was really going to happen. The adoptive mom told me her story — after they had their two sons, they wanted another child. But she experienced unexplained infertility. They tried IVF but could not get pregnant. They had been waiting to adopt for eight years and found out later that their profile had been stuck in a drawer. They never would have found a child if it were not for their niece. The adoptive mom was with me when we found out the gender and was so happy to have a girl.

I also wanted the adoptive parents to be there for the actual birth so I decided to get induced. I invited my ex, but he declined. Aly was in the delivery room the entire time, holding my hand. I wanted the adoptive couple to cut the umbilical chord, but I was too exhausted to insist on it. They stayed in the hallway. They were so respectful of my space. Aly cut the chord.

The adoptive couple named her Josie. Often birth mothers will name their baby in the hospital, and then the adoptive parents will chose the legal name. But I wanted her to have one name. Right after I delivered, I wanted to hold Josie, but my body was so shot I could barely lift my arms. Josie's adoptive parents held her first. I saw them looking at her with so much love and kindness – I felt at peace with my decision.

I was in the hospital for two days. My family and friends visited, and Aly took about 600 pictures. Then the caseworker called to say she'd be coming with the paperwork the following morning. She said, "You cannot take any medication eight hours before I arrive." I had to be "of sound mind" when I signed away my parental rights. I couldn't even take Motrin. Meanwhile, this baby had just ripped me right open!

The next morning, the caseworker called an hour before she arrived. I hung up and then walked into the bathroom. There, I looked in the mirror and said, "You cannot go through with the adoption, Jessa." Suddenly, my legs collapsed beneath me. I was on the floor sobbing. I have yet to find a word that accurately describes how I felt at that moment — an acid mix of heartbreak and sadness and anger.

I held Josie until the caseworker arrived. Then I signed the papers and dressed Josie in a dress I'd bought for her. We drove to the agency for the placement ceremony: The boys were there, too. I handed Josie to the mother and said, "Do you promise to take care of her forever?" They all said, "Yes, we promise!" I also handed them a letter I had written for Josie to read when she was old enough. I wanted her to know that the choice I made was with love.

That first night, I did not sleep. I did not cry. I just stared at the computer screen at all of her pictures. I was catatonic. The following week, I went back to school to start my sophomore year. I remember walking around campus like, "Stop talking about that boy who won't text you back! I just placed a baby for adoption, you idiot!" There were nights where I bawled and bawled.

I really started to heal after I visited Josie the first time. She was 3 months old. I cried the entire time, but her adoptive mother was very understanding of my feelings. It felt good to hold her, and to cry.

At six months, the adoption was finalized. I'd been dating my boyfriend for one week and asked him to come with me. That poor guy is now my husband. After that, I started writing about my experience. I also started doing retreats with birth mothers. That was 2010 and it was so successful, I continued to do them. I learned in the process that these women need support and camaraderie and to know that life goes on and can even be successful. I'm proof.

I wound up going to interrogator school, learned Mandarin and married that man who came with me to Josie's finalization. We now have two children together. But Josie will always be my first daughter.

Next July, I'm hosting a three-day retreat for 45 birth mothers. We'll start with a circle where everyone shares her story — when she placed, why. Some may have done it six months ago, some six years ago. The next morning, we do a makeup class and have a photographer take portraits. That's to help raise their self-esteem and self-worth, which is easy to lose when you go through adoption without support. Then we do a discussion on finding yourself again after placement. We then watch a movie, have a slumber party, and get up to do more group work the following day. These women leave feeling less alone and more empowered. They realize their lives are not over and that their choice, however painful, was always made out of love for that child. These are the birth mothers I know.